Chapter Text
DELIRIUM ARCHIVE
Exhibit 38,295,686,191
Ancient Correspondence including but not limited to: letters, journals, psychic paper, email, voice records, etc.
To be retrieved only by: The Doctor
Archival: Indefinite/Perpetuity
Tag Reads: Come Along, Doctor
To Mr. Edwin Bracewell
From Mrs. Amelia Pond-Williams
22 of February 1942
Dear Paisley,
Remember me? I sure hope so. If I timed this right, this letter should be arriving to that little Scottish village where your family owned the post office a little less than a year after you last saw the Doctor and I. Wow...so much has happened since then. Maybe we should just start off with the basics. I'm married, to the best man in the world. His name is Rory Williams and we've known each other since we were wee bairns in Leadworth. We've settled in Manhattan...in 1942. We arrived here in August of 1938 and have managed to build a life for ourselves.
We're not traveling with the Doctor anymore. In fact, we won't ever be able to see him again. Rory and I were both transported back here and there's no way we can get home.
This is home now. We've been living here for nearly four years and its been hard but we're surviving.
There's a lot of things for which we had a heads up. WWII for instance but then again you're probably not calling it that just yet are you? With the help of our daughter (long story) we've established a history for ourselves. We're officially US citizens now, some story about our respective parents being expats. No one seems troubled by certain inevitable inconsistencies, people don't investigate as thoroughly here as they did in my time. Back in 2023 they could have ferreted all of this out on the internet in about five minutes flat. Oh, I'm doing it again, aren't I? You don't know what the internet is either. I still keep slipping up like that every now and then. Rory tries to get me to be a bit more careful. I am trying, honestly.
Anyways, I realize this may be a big favor to ask but I was hoping you could help us. We never got to say a proper goodbye to the Doctor. He was our best friend. The best friend anyone ever had and in one moment we got ripped from his life and he from ours. We miss him, terribly. I've enclosed a book which should make our situation a bit more clear, it explains just about everything that lead us to here. My daughter encouraged me to write an Afterword. I struggled with it, knowing it would be the last time I ever got to communicate with the Doctor. Rory and I went through dozens, literally dozens of drafts before settling on the one we thought explained it all. Then when the book was published, they gutted it.
One hundred and ninety-five words.
One hundred and ninety-five words to sum up a thousand lifetimes worth of adventure. One hundred and ninety-five words to describe traveling the universe with the two men I've loved more than anything in creation. One hundred and ninety-five words to say a final goodbye. Rory and I were destroyed.
But then I had an idea.
I thought of you, Mr. Edwin Bracewell, a living bomb who loved life so much and fought so hard that he became a real boy. I thought maybe you could help. I know you can't send the Doctor a message now anymore than I can. But, well not to be indelicate, you just might be the closest thing we have on this planet to an immortal. You might just outlive and outlast us all. If you did, if you do, could you deliver a message to the Doctor for me? The real final message from Rory and I? I know it's a lot to ask, I know it's probably pretty indecent to bring up death in our first correspondence but I thought it might be worth a try.
Sorry if this is rude, Paisley. I still haven't developed much tact and 1940's New York isn't helping matters. So, did you ever find Dorabella? I hope so. No matter what you decide, take care Mr. Edwin P. Bracewell, the man who fought to be human and won.
Yours most affectionately,
Mrs. Amelia Pond-Williams